


An Evening Girl, Fond of the Twilight Hours

by Justausernameonline



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F, Two Shot, also more interaction w diana and amanda not at odds w each other would be excellent imo, amanda "flying at three am is fulfilling" o'neill, based off a little headcanon and i went wild, diana "leaf me alone" cavendish, i type slow, like the most recognizable one ive got is seafoamglue but its vague in lwa context halp orz, other characters and stuff, we need to reach an unanimous ship name for amanda x diana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9904739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justausernameonline/pseuds/Justausernameonline
Summary: Diana’s trying to work in the botanical garden long after night when Amanda arrives on her own agenda, going out on a limb unexpectedly.aka Amanda O'Neill and Diana Cavendish with their "bad girl shenanigans"





	

**Author's Note:**

> It was going to be a oneshot but it turned out longer than I expected, my brain is fried, and *pushes five usd towards you* I hope you enjoy this mess because it is a mess B')

Diana kept her gaze fixed on the treant bulb, knees braced on tilled soil patted flat and resisting to rub her dry eyes with a gloved hand. She waited, even if it laid on the ground dormant and still, idle until the next cast.

They were both supposed to be sleeping, but a vial of hartshorn spirit and many consecutive light spells later, Diana wasn’t about to stumble to bed wasteful. Only, Diana’s strength had waned, after evening, after midnight. The more she sacrificed trying to match the young treant to their soil type, the more she felt her efforts were in vain when they couldn’t enter the ground.

She sniffed shortly, blinking back frustration. “Only a few more samples.“ she said hoarsely. From her peripheral vision she remembered the mist bottle nestled in her shoulder bag of equipment. She pursed her lips, tearing her eyes away. It very well might have had fertilizer. "Back to task.”

Remaining silent was essential. Casting spells required her to speak as if her mouth wasn’t full of gravel, and she was losing coherent thought along with her caution, like how she disliked her voice’s echo from the ground up to the glass rotunda of the botanical garden, and the fact her solitude was an unnecessary hazard, turning the space into a behemoth of risks.

She shut her eyes to regain her bearings, trying to concentrate in the silent dark. She uncurled her fists off her lap, taking note of the soft soil, the warm air stored long after sunset. At least without light she minded the right details.

The treant bulb had entered academy grounds, according to Headmistress Holbrook, by a flying creature, dropping them at a terrific height that punched through the roof of a dorm. Found unfractured, they were transferred to the nursery beds, set to release at its walking stage by common knowledge.  
  
Diana smiled slightly as, guided by weak light, she took them from the pot and used a brush to remove the soil from the last test. She had gleaned all of it from her daily visit to the garden, and in that time, the professors’ lack of understanding the needs for them. With access to the nursery she had examined the treant bulb’s tunic and believed in a true chance of growth instead of a proper burial.

Then there was its size. She could hold them by their entirety to provide the best care without anyone knowing better. There would be no press, no misunderstandings quarreling in her mind as she raised the treant bulb to outstanding health. Erasing evidence of her work from the many nursery beds lopped years from her lifespan, as did a night without tea, rest, and a mattress--especially trespassing, but at the moment she didn’t care. 

In truth, she didn't care as much, _just_ a little less than usual, and it was a dangerous notion.

She forced down a yawn as she placed the young treant in a ready hole before switching her gloves for her wand. To make one’s own sunlight, they needed to feel a certain levity with restraint to a wayward optimism made harder when casted at night, and under the fire of slipping time, the chances to make a working spell gradually seemed dashed.

Somehow within stress, she felt inclined to teach Akko the spell as a means for protection and travel. That was all, a fuzzy thought late in the night.

It was the hope that the treant bulb would flourish into the forest guardian it was meant to be, a new wave of thought, that straightened her spine and maybe cracked her eyes a little wider. 

She really needed rest. 

Already she showed revitalization magic to Hannah and Barbara, then to the professors and headmistress of a sort, so why did she hold back? 

Her wand cut through the air.  Bold.  Precise.  Experimental.  “Lumivace!” 

Fiery radiance flew from the wand, strands that encased the treant bulb into a brilliant cocoon, the likeness sending a pang through Diana’s stomach. Breathing softly, she watched the spell coax them to wake. Its sight was always a novelty, at least to her.  Their roots’ stirred, then began to test the surrounding soil as one would wading into a cold lake.

After burrowing for a full minute, they stilled.  

She waited for that inevitable squirm.  She willed against it.

When they did she removed them painstakingly slow, watching their roots flick soil clean off. She cancelled the spell once it was done, sheathing her wand sloppily.  It was either by lack of coordination or motivation or both; she could not decide.

“Finicky, aren’t you?” she sighed while they slept.  "Please forgive me.“ She pinched her nose and shut her eyes again.    
  
Here she was, talking to another asleep.  As if it helped.  

A restless seesawing weight on her chest sustained her from crying out loud.  There was no urgency to this like deadlines, but the damning results did a number on her.  

She only wanted to help them.  By her Cavendish lineage and practice she could do it, and in daylight at the cost of the pomp and circumstance that followed her surname.  

Stuffy rituals for instant results.  

Nighttime had seemed like the best time to make it work.  Thankfully, the treant bulb was fine at the moment. Now if only they could both sleep in their natural habitats…

Diana briefly entertained herself staring at the soil, imagining her head resting there, and would have done so as of old.  She could care less about insects crawling in her hair.

“....No.” she denied, astonished.  “I would be _so_ dead.” And a vital potion before her first class seemed the best answer, only, only, only because she didn’t have the means to an alarm. The sun could provide waking light with the late spring, but that was wishful thinking.  She returned the treant bulb to the pot and prepared to move.

Diana had cared for the plants with and without magic, but this was a living creature.  Treants were rare to find at a young age wandering in a forest and much more to have dropped from the sky. They started as a bulb and grew like a tree, and she wasn’t too happy to think herself to sleep about how they gathered once they could travel far and wide. How much longer before the young treant weakened outside the brink of rescue? What did she forget in her tests? Or, was she simply trying to perfect what had to come naturally?

They wouldn’t thrive in a garden cultivated all-around by witches, that was for certain. They tended to grow in isolation from humanity, aided by mother trees in forest providing to the young in an ever-growing root and fungi system, living a society of their own. She stood a bit too quickly, focusing on the spinning ground as she dusted off her skirt. The shoulder bag’s weight surprised her after carrying on invisible on her shoulders that made the vital potion a greater must.

As she found the spade and erased her presence from the nursery beds, plans with plans and routes were shot down.  The process to be had was being forced.  To grow, didn’t one do so in most cases start from the womb? Let nature take its course after setting the way. She felt the failure in her hands while leaving, a hollowing pain not unwelcome, because the answer had arrived and she saw an ending of a chapter. She didn’t want to repeat the following day, nor tomorrow, knowing in the times she had erred, driven ahead without another stance, making hers indomitable, and not foreseeing, harm had been done to others in all her strength.

On her last legs she walked.  It was already a difficult task and could be compared to holding a baby of four kilos, something bearable unless done multiple times with utmost silence and the shoulder bag. 

Ignoring the strain helped a little.  There had to be the right amount of ignorance to the incessant _‘if I get caught, I’ll be expelled’_  thought that had evolved in the hours alone. Diana missed the lovely void of unconsciousness.  She missed her common sense.  

She missed a lot of things at the moment, but common sense was the most important because she was here, after all.  

She shut her eyes and breathed in.  

“I can do this.” she said waveringly.  

“I can do this.”

“I can do this.  I can do this...” she tried again, staring at the bright moon.  It lent her anxiety.  In all her community, she was just one witch attempting a nonsensical chance at recovery.  

But she was the only witch trying to do so.  No one else could console her at this time but her.

She dipped her gaze to the ground and fully halted in an attempt to quell the floating sensation rising within herself.  She could not say the same for her voice.

“I..will do this.  It won’t be perfect in the image I made it to be, but--but I will have done it in the best manner I intended...and that is enough.  I wish to revitalize this young treant and whether or not there is success, I will have done my best to help.” 

Diana exhaled.  Hearing it spoken aloud, hardly carrying out of her given sight, had never felt so assuring.

A whoosh of air greeting her ears broke that lasting solitude.  Faraway and rapidly crescendoing, it alarmed her enough to change course in a whirlwind of tightly connected motions.  She skirted out of the beds to the entrance’s blindspot, quickly setting down the bulb and shoulder bag to draw her wand.    

Maybe, just maybe she hadn’t taken into account the predator would be after their prey and had paid the price. 

She began constructing a barrier and the like around the plants in the botanical garden as her heartbeat thudded against her ribcage.  In a long time, she was fully awake.

 

* * *

 

"Easy peasy."

Amanda tossed the door stopper between the entrance in time before it could thunder closed. 

She grinned and jumped onto her broom, going at a gentle cruise.  Honestly, it was one of the few times she did a job for someone outside of the thrills, stolen souvenirs and the wanderlust.

Infiltrating the botanical garden? Skulking out of and into bed under the night sky? Taking her broom from the inventory under Badcock’s nose? Making a profit at something she excelled at? She took that in a without question after, well, memorizing the layout of the garden then tracking down her client.

(Sucy hadn’t even bothered hiding her stationery Amanda had seen slipped through the bottom of the dorm door. She’d stopped by theirs, casually inserting the treant bulb that she didn’t know until the letter–-no one else seemed to know either–-for she could see goblins hard at work patching their roof while she stood on the brooming field.

Akko’s bandaids from splinters and apprehension and Lotte’s busy reply while stuck in a book by a mention ruled them out instantly. Amanda had then strolled down the room, hands in her pajama pants and peering over the final suspect’s desk.

Sucy’s one exposed eye was narrowed on the latticework out of dry leaves with several vials within her reach.  She had a hunch Sucy was going do something a tad bit illegal just like she herself would.

“It’s a baby.  Looks like a bulb of some sort.” Sucy had uttered once her focus switched to hers.  It was hardly telling by the look that seemed to see through her, at the same time one wider, expectant, impossible to refuse.

"Handle with care, got it.” Amanda asked no further questions.  She knew she could figure out the rest alone.

“It’s in the nursery beds of this garden, basically long rows of dirt. Whatever condition you find it in, give it to me. I’ll get you something you like.” There were a couple of things that fit that statement.

"That won’t be a problem.”  
  
Sucy raised a brow.  Probably. “What else is there?”

“Nothing, Sucy." she drawled. "I’ll have fun and get it done, with your request my bonus.”

"...Good.”)

Stealing a plant with the odds stacked against her felt like one of those underestimated sidequests in Constanze’s games. There wouldn’t be a trace of her; the matriculation ceremony made sure of that, as well as the Nightfall incident. She knew escape routes, had her catsuit, night vision goggles, and wand, all for success. She was entering unknown charted territory with a flight path to treasure. 

A quick one at that, she corrected herself while accelerating and skillfully avoiding thick foliage that would snag her broom. Leaving without a peep, too, was the most important. 

She flew atop the two paths stretching towards the rotunda, staying so high she almost scratched her skull on the ceiling that erased the possible obstacles. It avoided a haphazard crash course through the fruits and vegetables which could launch an investigation, because honestly she didn’t want to make the academy more hard up.

Her rest was cut short by the job, but she handled herself as smoothly as the daytime, limber from the flying maneuvers that needed her utmost concentration. 

Confidently reaching the rotunda and mapping out her descent as she circled in search of the beds she hovered there, idle and squinting. 

She kind of regretted not doing recon at the moment.  “Should’ve brought a light,“ came the other option.  She aimed for a steep landing for a challenge anyways. No one would see her fumble.

"Ignis fatui!”

A light swelled monstrously from below.

“AAHHHHH!”

She grabbed at her face.  She’d fallen for it, like a sucker. 

Amanda’s vision was effectively blotted.  It was like her eyes were dry heaving.  Her broom and skill were what sustained her from an immediate neck-breaking drop, and recalling that in the nick of time, found a strong yet stiff grip on her broomstick.

She had no idea how long she hovered there, listening to her frantic panting slow.  

Everything had gone downhill fast.  

Her clammy hands in vice grip struggled to hold on.  

She tried to wipe them, honestly, but the simple motion overwhelmed the rest.  Too stunned to scream again, she–

Was tethered her upright by something with nylon rope strength, driving the air left in her lungs out.

But the plunge resumed.  She clenched her teeth throughout it, knowing better not to speak to give away her identity.  

Yes, she was alive, an anxious knot temporarily opposed to gravity, but she couldn't see where she was going.  

All she could expect was expulsion.  

She had ran entered headfirst again! 

She enjoyed that a lot!

“I,” 

Someone’s voice caught. Amanda turned slowly towards it as much as possible with the constraints and steeled herself.

Her boots securely scuffed ground, the tethers vanishing as she found her footing, and in her shock she almost plopped down, catching herself by mere inches.   

"Who are you?“ she dared to ask.

"I would say the same, but it isn’t my foremost concern.” they replied.  “Have you recovered your vision?” 

Amanda quickly tied their accent to be English. It wasn’t the kind used by the posh ones in movies, and after hearing many kinds of them, she couldn’t place it immediately.  She didn’t realize her eyes were screwed shut until she checked, releasing some tension from her face and shoulders as she saw the end of the drop right at her feet. 

 She let out a shuddering sigh. "I can. Thanks.“

"I’m glad.” they said, voice heavy.

She cocked her head to the side.  “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yes, I am…but are you? I blinded you. I hadn’t intended to put you in danger.” They fell silent.  Seconds felt stretched before there was another near-silent intake of breath.  Part of her attention was devoted to placing their identity.  The other was guessing if the person wasn't a jerk.  “I'm sorry.  I will not make the same mistake.”

Amanda waved it off, taking care not to accidentally slap the other person, nearly tipping over again. A warm hand on her side steadied her afloat. It tempted her to lean into it, but she ignored it. "None taken, mysterious savior. I was trespassing. You too. But apart from that, you’re forgiven.  Say we, um,“ She internally winced as her voice cracked, "not tell this to anyone?” She squinted somewhere. "It'd be good."

“I plan not to.” They sounded surprised. "How come?“

"I’m sure you’re Diana Cavendish, first of all. Doesn't sound like the kind of stuff you'd want to reach the teachers.”

The person spluttered like someone had thwacked them in the back. Amanda waited, not sorry at all.

“You’re correct. On who I am." Came her winded reply. "What else were you going to say?"

“Hah?”

“You said ‘first of all’.” Diana prompted. By her voice only, Amanda discerned the change in her tone gradually like cracking open a safe, searching to assure instead of searching for a treasure. "But perhaps lack of sleep is affecting us both.“

Amanda removed her goggles with a laugh. "I _do_ feel out of it, though that might be the spell talking. I’ve got nothing else to say about it, Diana. I could just tell, you know?”

“I suppose.” There was a light cough.  “I’m afraid I need you to tell me why you've chosen to enter the botanical garden past curfew, however.  This is an unreasonable hour for the both of us to be awake.”

“I’m sure you told yourself that too.”

“And multiple times over.” Diana said faintly.  “Will you?” She sounded wondering, not at all patronizing.  It was not unkindly, so different from the monotone answers she dispensed in their classes that had the rest of them scrambling after her well-worn path. The very act, in a way, paved a new image of the other girl to Amanda, cheesily as she thought it. On the other hand, there was the fact they were both doing something at the wrong place at the wrong time. But it just felt so right.

Amanda doubted Diana felt the same. “I think you’re going to get me written up, first thing that leaves my mouth.” Amanda replied.  

“I will not do that.” 

“How can I be sure?”

“Because this evening conversation will remain here.” Amanda imagined Diana tapping her head for emphasis.  “I trust you too will do the same.”

“...All right.”  Removing her catsuit’s hood, the comforting brush of a breeze to her hair was grounding against the wait for her eyes to dilate in the dark.  She eyed the vague shape that was Diana, whose form was still, almost dormant like a statue poised to move.  “Just let me start to finish.”

“Of course.  Please be short, I don’t have much time.  But know that if you were caught, you would have been expelled for break-in, entry, and theft. Security would have found you eventually in your getup if I hadn’t first.”

“Well, I didn’t dress in this for nothing, Diana, helps me fit in tight spaces.” She winked even if Diana couldn’t really see.  She slowly stood and leaned against her broom.  “You described my job here in a nutshell.  And I was going to until you zapped me from the sky.  No way am I leaving empty-handed though! It’s against my client’s wishes.” 

She caught herself, eyeing Diana warily the second time.  

Her vision having adapted, she saw her better.  Moonlight sharpened her silhouette like an eclipse, and from her strong posture up to the slight dip of her chin to see Amanda eye to eye, she saw fathomless pools of lucid focus.  

There was no advantage, no way she could lie her way through.  Diana had saved her first of all, and she wasn’t going to admonish her second, with the no-nonsense way she carried herself.  Diana, appearance-wise, looked short of sudden death, but she wasn’t going to mention that because it helped no one, and commanded the truth.

“Here’s the thing, okay?” Amanda sighed.  “I’m after this specimen, a ‘baby’ plant.  My client wants it dead or alive, and it might be...” She pointed towards the nursery beds, “somewhere in there? They weren’t clear.”

Diana turned away with furrowed brows. “I know what they meant.”

“So that’s why you’re working the graveyard shift?”

“There is no shift.” Diana said slowly.  “I came here on my own accord, therefore I’ve breached the same rules as you.  But,” Her lips thinned as she faced Amanda again.  Her eyes were a burning blue.  Amanda gulped at her outward disdain.  “I can’t allow you to fulfill your “client’s” demand.  You’re making a mistake.”

‘ _I kinda figured that_.’ Amanda frowned.  “I kind of figured that.” She said it aloud.  “I’m here for the fun.  Really! I’m not going to tell you who they are, but I’m confident they weren’t going to do malicious stuff to it.  From what I’ve heard, they didn’t get a good look at it.”

“How did they know they existed?”

“Pffftt, the walls have ears? That could be why--” Amanda almost lost her train of thought at that.  “Anyway,” she scratched her head, “I made a deal that I was going to get something that worked for them in a brew.  I’m stuck with trying to get you to give it to me, which is silly because you’ll kick my a--”

“No.” Diana sighed.

“My thoughts exactly.  Why won’t you let me do it?”

“Because f--” Diana clasped her hands behind her back.  “Excuse you.  E-Excuse me.”  Her eyes flew shut, lashes distinct in her profile.  

“You’re fine.”

Diana slowly inclined her head as if in thanks.  “Likewise.” Amanda straightened her back, awestruck and all of a sudden shy.  

“Now, I must make this clear.  When I learn of someone with needs they cannot produce for themselves, I seek them to eliminate that certain problem, or if I can, absolve them of that entire difficulty by the given limits of my abilities to the boundary formed by their comfort.  Helping hands are far few in between in magic as far as my life here has shown.  I do not restrict myself to humans, magic users or none that will not place my welfare and the welfare of others in immediate danger.  I try to protect life by means I can make possible.

“The plant you speak of is a young treant.  You may have heard of them in urban myths.  They appear in media portrayed as eldritch beings after travelers passing through their habitats.” She shook her head.  “Protecting the environment is their true goal obscured by that.  Treants have kept other magical beings safe within their land for millennia, but the times have proven their path to longevity nowadays are rarely met.”

Amanda was listening.  She listened better than most lectures from renowned teachers from Luna Nova.  When Diana spoke, she relished the end of her sentences, compacting words to understand entirely, her voice a better guide than musty tomes with droning, dragging direction.  Diana was a good teacher, even if she wasn't considering it professionally.

Amanda could listen all night.  So it hurt to ask her to stop talking.  

She tried before she couldn't get a word in edgewise, measuring out her breaths.  “Diana.” 

She stopped, slowly crossing her arms.  Amanda winced and continued.  “We don’t have a lot of time.  Sorry for butting in, but I completely agree with you.  If I help you wrap this up faster than a swaddled sloth, you’ll give me a substitute for my client?”

“I believe that compromise best suits our interests.  But you’re missing the point.”

“Isn’t it making sure the treant can grow to a strong adult?”

“That is part of it, yes.  But you forget your role as a witch.  No matter what career we take, whatever principles of wizardly eudaemonics we demonstrate the most and most ardently, we are the bridge between humans and spirits. Do you remember that?”

She really did, if she thought long and hard, caught up with the thrills.  Amanda blinked at her.  She replayed her words over and over in her head.  For something everyone looked forward to, she was barely on board.  Maybe she was getting somewhere? 

But she was still meandering in Luna Nova in the view of her teacher and her peers, especially when the academy underdog had decided she wasn't doing her best at all.  When her approach, just like Constanze’s way of using magic was put down because it was just different in delivery.  For example, she had always loved flight magic.  She used it almost always too, and outside of races, theft, tricks, and whatever she could create on the spot, she held onto that wonderful levity it gave her nothing on ground could.  Her abrasive flying style affected her grades as it did telegraphing her nature with people, so she probably needed polishing on that, but it was a start.

And she didn’t have a damn clue where to go from that--saving animals on high platforms was always that one thing.  She sighed.  

Diana began to stroll over to her.  Amanda shot up her hands in fright.  She must’ve took it for disinterest.  “I can safely say I don’t!” she cried.  “I’m ready to help you.  I mean, I’ve been wanting to since you saved me from dying.” Her stomach did flip-flops against her belly.  “But, I heard you loud and clear.  Making a bubble around yourself and ignoring the problems of others never did good for anybody.  I’m no different from dabbling in magic selfishly time to time...” 

She stopped, abruptly aware of the silence.  Diana, still as a statue, gave her a trace of a weary smile.  

“Crap.  I was shouting, wasn’t I? Sorry.” She met her eyes.  There was an ache in them she couldn’t describe.  Maybe she was projecting that onto herself, because getting a bad reputation made it hard for people outside of her circle to approach her and sincerely talk with her.  Diana could be one of those new people.  

She watched her yawn, wondering how long she’d been holding it.  “It is unfair for you to claim that you've forgotten completely.  Amanda, I’m glad you want to help me. I’m short of a functioning plan, however.” Diana dipped her chin.  “I can for now provide you something for this client of yours.  I only need more time.”

Amanda nodded firmly.  “How about we, umm, try coming up with some ideas on the way there? I’ll be the escort.”

Diana’s eyes widened.  “Y-Yes.  That sounds better than what I had in mind.”

“All right!” Amanda cheered softly as she released her broom from her grip.  It dropped before it hovered a few feet from the ground.  She extended a gloved hand.  “Hop on.”

“...I need to get my equipment in order first.” 

Amanda blushed.  At least Diana couldn’t see that.  “Take your time.  I’m gonna scope out the botanical garden in case one of the guards are making their rounds.”

Diana did one of those small smiles of hers again, nodding.  

Amanda tried to think straight as she lifted off.  

Figuratively, she was succeeding.

**Author's Note:**

> "Lumivace" = lumen ("light" in Latin) + vivace ("lively, energetic and brisk" in Italian)
> 
> "Ignus fatui" = plural for "will-o-the-wisps" in Latin (not mine), Diana creates the kind that can be compared to opening your phone in the middle of the night with the brightest display but 10x that
> 
> -Sucy's just making a pamaypay ("fan") out of palm leaves for kicks


End file.
